


Momentus Occasions

by kittenofdoomage



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Comfort, Depression, F/M, Fluff, Humor, Romance, Sadness, Sex, Smut, mental health
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-09
Updated: 2018-10-09
Packaged: 2019-07-28 14:35:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16243670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittenofdoomage/pseuds/kittenofdoomage
Summary: You’re having a bad day for no particular reason. Your relationship with Sam is still new but he knows exactly how you feel.





	Momentus Occasions

“You’ve been quiet today,” Sam murmured, brushing your shoulder with his fingers as he passed. You managed a weak smile at him when he sat down in the chair closest to you. “Everything okay?”

With a nod, you waved him off, returning your attention to the computer screen. “Just tired,” you sighed, tapping the down key and staring at articles without even reading them.

Sam watched you for a second, one eyebrow a little raised and you ignored him, tapping away on the laptop. “You know,” he started, leaning back in his chair and stretching one leg out. “You can tell me. If there’s anything you wanna talk about…” He let the question hang and you looked over at him with a stronger false smile in place.

“Honestly, Sam, I’m just tired,” you insisted, meeting his eyes. “Some days I just… don’t wanna.”

“Don’t wanna what?” he asked.

“Don’t wanna anything.”

It didn’t make sense but it didn’t need to. Sam got it. Sam knew. He knew about the little box of pills you had refilled every month. He knew about the diary you kept, the thoughts you couldn’t share with anyone else. He knew about the insomnia and the ridiculously inconsistent appetite.

Sam knew because Sam dealt with all those things himself.

He leaned over, the back of his fingers connecting with yours and your smile became a little more genuine. “Wanna go watch something in bed?” he asked and you glanced back at your computer.

“Yeah,” you murmured back, closing the laptop and standing up. “Just let me grab a drink from the kitchen.” Sam nodded, getting to his feet and padding off towards your room. When you caught up, glass of water in hand, Sam was already on the bed, shoes and socks off, overshirt hung neatly on the bedpost as he switched the television on.

You couldn’t remember the last time Sam had slept in his own bed. If he was at the bunker, he was in here. The way he made himself at home always made you smile; there were few people you could tolerate in your personal space, especially on days like these, but Sam was one of them.

“I thought we could start Doctor Who again,” he said, not looking at you as you placed your glass down on the side table. “Start with Ecclestone?”

“Sure,” you replied, shrugging your sweater off and slipping your shoes into the spot near Sam’s. In truth, you were relieved he was decided things because you were too tired to make the effort. “What are we doing for dinner?”

“I texted Dean to bring take-out back on his supply run,” Sam mumbled, shifting as you climbed over him instead of walking around the bed. He lifted his arm, allowing you to slide right in beside him, laying your head on his chest.

He selected the first episode of the Ecclestone series and both of you fell silent, watching without speaking. Sam’s hand was on your shoulder, rhythmically stroking his thumb over the joint and you felt your eyes grow heavy before the first episode was even finished. Netflix automatically continued playing and you slowly drifted off.

When you woke up, the television was black, the options for the streaming service on screen asking if you were still watching. You smiled, taking in your changed position; Sam was facing you, his body still curled around yours, one arm holding you close, protectively. Lifting your head to look at him, you memorized his features.

He looked younger when he was asleep. His eyelashes were dark against his skin; the wrinkles on his forehead were smooth; his stubble almost perfectly symmetrical on both sides. A strand of hair laid over the bridge of his nose, resting on the little mole on the left side of his nose.

It was impossible to resist the urge to lift your hand and gently tuck the wayward hair behind his ear and Sam scrunched up his nose and frowned as the movement woke him.

“Hey,” you whispered. “You’re cute when you sleep.”

Sam grunted and moved a little, a squeak catching him by surprise. You giggled and his cheeks went red. “Sorry,” he mumbled, burying his face in the pillows.

“You’ve met your brother right? Mr. I-Pass-Gas-Like-A-Horse?” Your words were distorted by giggles. “Isn’t it supposed to be a momentous occasion when couples fart in front of each other?” Sam’s lopsided grin was half buried in the fabric of the pillow. “It’s okay, Sam, I know you’re human,” you teased, pressing in closer to him.

“So we’re a couple now, huh?” he asked, lifting his head and tucking his arm underneath the pillow.

“I think so,” you sighed. “I mean, we’re spending all our time together, I enjoy your company, we go out to dinner -”

“Plus all the really,  _really_ , great sex,” Sam added and you pointed a finger at him with a nod.

“And that.” You smiled, rolling onto your back. “Yeah, we’re a couple.”

Sam was smiling like an idiot now and he moved his arm underneath the pillows to slide it between your shoulders and the bed, almost scooping you against his body and you yelped, giggling at the sudden movement. “I want you here,” he murmured, laying his head back and closing his eyes.

You snuggled into him, watching the door for a second. “I thought Dean was getting take-out,” you mumbled.

“He is,” Sam replied, not opening his eyes. “He texted and said he won’t be back until like eight or something.” A glance at the clock on your bedside table confirmed you’d slept for most of the afternoon. Sam yawned and smacked his lips and you watched him for a moment until your neck started to ache from craning it that way.

“Sam?”

“Yes?”

“What are you doing?”

“Sleeping.”

You grinned, sliding one hand down over his belly to the buckle of his pants. “Do you have to be?” He groaned as your fingers cupped his swelling erection, squeezing just tight enough to force him to open his eyes. “I mean, if you’re really that tired…”

Sam pounced, pinning you underneath his large frame as you giggled and shrieked in surprise. “I am never too tired for that,” he growled, grinding his hips between your thighs. You exhaled a breath, a moan trailing on the tail end. “God, you’re so beautiful.”

The comment took you by surprise and you couldn’t look him in the eye, blushing furiously as Sam smiled at you.

“What?”

“Nothin’, just -”

“No one ever said you’re beautiful before?” he asked, looking a little shocked by the notion.

You nodded, embarrassed now and trying to escape his hold. “My mom told me. My dad sometimes. But… no… not… not guys.” Sam stared at you, mouth gaping open.

“Were you kept in a box until I met you?”

“What?” you giggled. “No, don’t be silly.”

Sam shook his head, holding you still underneath his strong body, rendering you powerless as he grinned at you. “I don’t believe you. Someone must have told you you’re beautiful because you are. How could anyone not notice? How could no one comment?”

“You’re crazy,” you shrieked in laughter, pushing at his shoulders as he started to kiss you, laughing along with you. “Stop, Sam, you’re gonna make me pee!”

He froze abruptly, nose to nose with you, still grinning. “I love you,” he whispered and you went still, eyes widening. “In the spirit of momentus occasions, I’m telling you now because I do and you need to know that I do.”

Your mouth opened and closed like a fish as you struggled with your own need to tell him, to show him that he was loved too. But Sam had other ideas, capturing your lips in a blisteringly hot kiss that blew away all the thoughts gathering in your head. His hips were moving again now, fingers snatching at your clothing greedily.

Both of you fought to get the other naked first as the playfulness went out the window in favor of raw hunger. Sam kissed and sucked a path of faint red marks along your collarbone, down towards your breasts where he dragged his tongue over the sensitive areola.

“I want you to ride me,” he growled, pulling you across his body so he was on his back, your legs tangled up with his. There was more kissing as you kicked your pants off all the way and Sam’s boxers disappeared, allowing you to slowly position yourself on his lap, thighs on either side.

“Sam,” you whispered, rutting against his bare length. “Condom.”

“Yeah,” he chuckled, “I’m on it.” One long arm stretched out blindly, opening the drawer of the bedside table and fishing around as you kissed him and distracted him. “You’re not making this any easier.”

“I like making things hard,” you quipped, wiggling on his cock and Sam emitted a noise that was half-groan, half-laugh. “You should really shower later,” you commented, sitting up when he seized on his prize and handed it to you. “Because I really would like to suck your dick.”

Sam groaned, watching you rip the condom open and pulled the latex out, making sure you had it the right way up before placing it on his cock like a little hat. He kept his eyes glued on you as you rolled it down, frowning when you couldn’t get it all the way to the base of his cock.

“I always struggle with this bit,” you complained. “Your dick is too big.”

He outright laughed at that, taking over and rolling the condom the rest of the way down so it nestled somewhat uncomfortably at the root. “So I have to wait for a blow job?” Sam asked, raising an eyebrow at you.

“Yes,” you pouted, straddling him again and Sam moaned as your fingers encircled his length, lining him up. “Because right now I want you in me.”

You sank down onto him, shaking in the effort of holding yourself up when the pleasure of his penetration overwhelmed you and you gasped loudly. Sam was clinging to the sheets, his jaw clenched tightly as you finally settled on his lap, cock buried to the hilt inside you.

“Fuck,” he grunted, the vowels a little more elongated than they needed to be. “I’ll never get tired of that feeling.”

“Me either,” you admitted, leaning over him on your hands. Sam grinned up at you, sliding his hands up to rest them on your thighs, twitching his cock inside you. “Ugh,” you whimpered, “don’t do that.”

“What, this?” he teased, repeating the clench of his muscles, making his thick shaft throb again. You moaned in response and Sam growled, reaching up to drag you down against him, forcing you to surrender to his kiss. The action lifted you off of his cock but his hips were swift to pick up the slack. Sam dug the heels of his feet into the bed and lifted his legs to bend them at the knee, thrusting up into you.

Hard.

You cried out into his mouth, powerless against his strength. One huge hand was splayed across your lower back now, pressing down against your ass as he slammed upwards again and again. His other hand was clutching the back of your neck.

When you came, you reared up, almost sobbing with the intensity of Sam’s thrusts. Your scream was stuttered by the constant movement of his hips and you shuddered through your climax with Sam grunting underneath you, teeth bared in a snarl.

Your climax ebbed away and Sam slowed down, releasing his tight hold on you to let you slump across his chest, coaxing you into lazy kisses. “You’re beautiful when you cum too,” he murmured, running his fingers through your hair and completely messing it up.

“Shut up,” you whispered back, smiling back at him.

His hips were still moving, lazily pumping up into you and you sighed, stroking one hand down his face as you kissed him, feeling the spiky stubble on his cheeks and chin. For a few moments, you lay there, slowly meeting each thrust, gasping against his lips and letting your eyes flutter closed.

“Hey,” you murmured, pressing your cheek against his so you were speaking directly into his ear, “I love you too.”

Sam smiled and you lifted your head, instantly meeting his lips again. The passion in the moment grew and Sam’s fingers dug into your thighs.

“I gotta fuck you,” he growled and you nodded, gasping as he rolled you underneath his body, using his knee to lift his weight off before he crushed you. The entire move pushed his cock further into your sensitive pussy and you cried out, arching on the bed as Sam lifted up on his arms and pulled back, slamming into you again.

He picked up a pace, shifting to hold one of your legs up with one hand, the other arm taking the brunt of his weight. The muscles in his bicep rippled and his long hair fell over his face, obscuring his eyes to the point that they looked black. You screamed as his cock slammed into your g-spot and Sam grunted, burying his mouth against your pulse point.

When he came, his hips stuttered and he didn’t make a sound until he remembered to breathe again, gasping for air and panting as he finished pumping into the condom. You were splayed out underneath him, one leg dangling on his arm, chest heaving as you tried to suck in oxygen.

“Sam,” you panted, touching his shoulder. “You’re squishing me.”

Sam moved, chuckling through his heavy breaths. “Sorry,” he murmured, wincing when he withdrew and hopped over to the little trash can by the television, trying not to make a mess. You lifted up onto your elbows, nodding in approval of the pleasant view his bare buttocks provided.

He noticed you staring as he turned.

“Can I help you?” he asked, arching an eyebrow.

“Nice butt,” you complimented and Sam laughed, shaking his head as he returned to the bed, pulling you back into his arms and kissing you softly.

“Thanks,” he murmured. “But yours is nicer.”

“You’re blind.”

“You’re hot.”

The bunker door slammed noisily and echoed through the halls, making both you and Sam look at your wide open bedroom door. Dean’s heavy footsteps followed and both of you panicked - you went for your clothes and Sam went for the door, slamming it before Dean could see anything that would scar him for life.

A few seconds later, the footsteps stopped outside the door.

“I’m guessing you two were rockin’ the casbah so I’ll just leave your food in the kitchen, ‘kay?”

“Thanks, Dean,” Sam called back, stood fully nude by the door staring at you. You were half dressed, pants on one leg and shirt dangling around your neck as you tried not to giggle. “We should really start closing the door before Dean sees you naked.” He snatched his pants from the floor and dragged them on, forgoing underwear as he pulled you against his bare chest. “I meant what I said. I love you.”

You smiled weakly. “Even though I’m a hormonal mess that gets sad for no reason and needs to nap?”

He grinned back, cupping your face and tipping your head up so he could kiss you. “No matter what,” he promised.

“Me too,” you whispered back, kissing him again. “No matter what.”


End file.
